


How I've Always Seen You

by theduskysky



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Angelic Dean, Angelic Dean Winchester, Angelic Grace, Destiel - Freeform, Everybody Lives, Grace Pregnancy, M/M, Oblivious Dean, Oblivious Dean Winchester, Smarmy Balthazar, Stolen Grace, Timeline Shenanigans, Winged Dean Winchester
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-01-05
Updated: 2018-05-23
Packaged: 2018-09-14 22:54:08
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,774
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9208760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theduskysky/pseuds/theduskysky
Summary: Dean only has one question: what just happened? Wherein stolen angelic grace chooses Dean over an actual angel and no one knows what will happen now.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> OMG I should be writing on my other stories but I've been binging on destiel and now I can't not... So this is tapped out in a hurry. No beta and no clue. Sorry if my tenses shift about or whatever.

By the time they had forced their way into the warehouse, Ethaniel was dead and Gamaliel was holding the vial of grace yet uncapped. Dean dove right in, Gamaliel fending him off one-handed. Cas had told him to wait for him but Dean is sure Cas didn’t really expect him to actually listen.

He’s holding his own even though Gamaliel is far older and and has seen more battles than he’ll ever see. Cas bursting through the doorway and drawing Gamaliel’s attention is the opportunity he needs. Gamaliel staggers back and, in a moment that Dean will forever remember in slow-mo, drops the vial of grace between them. It crashes to the ground in a tinkling of crystal. 

Cas yells his name in warning. Dean doesn’t need to be warned. He remembers, quite vividly, the explosiveness of Anna’s reclaimed grace. He knows he should throw himself back and down, duck and cover, but he finds himself looking directly into the star of Ethaniel’s grace. He can feel Gamaliel smirking, thinking the grace will rise to him and his angelic powers will be restored. Dean’s pretty sure that’s what’s about to happen too, which is why it doesn’t make sense that he doesn’t move. And really, he can’t. He’s mesmerized by the swirling colors he sees in the grace pooling on the floor. He watches as it starts to swirl and rise like the dust clouds he’s seen in empty deserts. He’s fascinated by the long, thin tendrils that separate and begin reaching. The fascinating thing is that they’re not reaching for Gamaliel. He can tell that the three of them are watching, Cas and Gamaliel in equal horror, as those tendrils drift and begin reaching out for him.

He can hear Gamaliel’s denial, no no no, but it’s muffled and honestly he could care less about anything that Gamaliel has to say. He’s marginally more interested in Cas yelling his name and reaching for him. He knows, though, he  _ knows _ Cas isn’t going to reach him in time. He knows because the grace is calling to him. It has him locked in place as if it were the snake charmer and he the snake. But that’s wrong because in the next moment, it becomes the snake and strikes out at him faster than he can see.

He expects to be obliterated, exploded, to have his body blown apart, so he’s surprised and frankly caught off guard when it forces his mouth open and slides, sleek and hot, down his throat. He wants to call out to Cas, ask him what’s going on but he can’t speak around its fullness. It’s burning its way down, deep into him. He can feel it pooling in his belly and radiating out through his veins. He feels it moving down his arms and legs and it feels like his fingernails and toes are going to pop off as the light tries to escape his body like how it happened to the Beast (but he’ll never make that comparison out loud). It feels uncontainable and he’s sure this is it, the moment his atoms are expulsed out into the universe. He feels the light radiating out of him like it did Anna but instead of him being blown apart, it’s Gamaliel who doesn’t survive. He can tell because now that the light has faded back into his body and his pupils have adjusted to the low light again, he can see bits of him everywhere.

His limbs are still tingling and are uncooperative as he turns around to see Cas stunned into motionlessness. There’s a look of anguish on his face and he knows Cas didn’t expect him to survive either. He’s barely gotten ‘what just happened’ out of his mouth when his legs decide not to work anymore. He’s falling to the floor but suddenly Cas is there, holding him up. He falls forward onto Cas’ chest instead, his head lolling onto Cas’ shoulder. 

Even though his limbs aren’t working, his ears are and he hears Cas say his name, ‘Dean', in that subsonic-frequency-rife-with-meaning way that only Cas has. Cas can make his name into so many different singular statements. Sometimes it’s an inquiry; more often it’s a reprimand. In this moment, his name on Cas’ lips has so many meanings. It’s a cry of relief, an expression of concern. It’s the same question he just asked Cas and also a question of how is he feeling but underneath all that, there’s an undercurrent, strong and pulsing. It’s saying, I care about you deeply, you mean so much to me, please be okay and Dean is wondering why he’s never heard it before and why he’s only ever heard one thing at a time instead of the multiple layers he’s hearing now. He wants to ask Cas about it but his body has apparently decided it's had enough because his vision goes dark. 

When Dean rises to consciousness, he knows Cas has brought him home to the bunker because he feels safe considering he can’t feel much. His eyes are too heavy to open and he can make out furious whispering but he’ll have to find out what Sammy is saying later because he’s too tired to stay awake to find out now.

When he wakes again, it’s because Cas is arguing with that douche Balthazar. Funny how most of Cas brothers and sisters got the el-named-after-our-Father suffix but what’s up with Balthazar’s name?

“That's exactly what happened,” Cas is insisting.

“That's impossible,” Balthazar retorts back. Dean can hear the implied ‘don't be a moron’.

“Cas doesn't lie,” he manages to scrape out of his dry throat. He can feel their gazes snap to him.

“Au contraire, dear Castiel is quite capable of dissembling, even if he is rather horrible at it. How he managed to fool you for so long only speaks to your unwillingness to confront the lie and not so much to his ability to prevaricate.”

Cas does his long suffering sigh and Dean wants to smile at it but his face hurts. His everything hurts, actually.

“Just look at him!”

“I am looking at him but there is no way he could have survived that.”

“Than how do you explain this?” Dean wants to ask what they're talking about when Sam enters. He brushes past Balthazar and sets a tray down on the dresser.

“You're awake. How are you feeling?” And now they're all staring at him. He wants to say fine but the looks Sam and Cas are giving him… he just doesn't have the energy for that fight. 

“Exhausted. Hot. Thirsty.” Sam moves closer to him and feels his forehead. 

“You're running a temperature.” He fiddles with the tray and suddenly there's blessed coolness on his forehead. No one speaks as Sam holds a glass of water with a straw out to him. He didn't bother trying to take it from Sam. He's weak and they all know it.

“You guys are killing me,” he says after several moments of silence. He knows immediately it was the wrong thing to say. Sam's always so particular in reference to his death so he plows ahead. “What happened, Cas? What was that?”

“Gamaliel dropped Ethaniel’s grace. It should have gone to him but it appears to have… chosen you instead.”

“What does that mean?” Sam asks. “It chose him?”

“Grace,” Cas explains, “is that small piece of our Father that dwells within us that empowers us to do His will.”

“It chose him? So it’s sentient?”

“It’s a piece of our  _ Father _ ,” Balthazar interrupts. “It’s a celestial mystery that your mundane mind will never comprehend so let’s leave it for now, shall we?” Sam is gearing up for his rebuttal but Balthazar continues. “The important thing is is that it should not have chosen Dean. Frankly, it should have blown him to smithereens instead of poor, misguided Gamaliel.”

“But...” Cas begins.

“Yes, Cassie. I can see as well as you.”

“What? What is there to see?” Sam asks.

This time the long suffering sigh is from Balthazar. “Our grace… it has a very unique signature. It is, in essence, who we are, much as our Father breathed into man and your soul is the signature of who you are. When Cas was fueled with borrowed grace, we could all see it wasn’t his. It was like seeing Theo stamped all over him. Dean should look like Made by Ethaniel, but he doesn’t. He still looks like… Dean. Although, I’m surprised that shows through when he’s been walking around with Made by Castiel on his ass all this time.” Balthazar huffs to himself like he does when he thinks he’s being clever.

“What does  _ that _ mean?” Dean asks, looking up to Cas. It should probably disturb him that Cas is blushing or that Balthazar is smirking.

“When Cassie gripped you tight and raised you from perdition, oh and by the way, congratulations on that little bit of grandstanding, darling,” Balthazar says turning towards Cas. “I didn’t think you had it in you.” Cas lowers his head a little and Balthazar answers his unspoken question. “Of course we were all watching! We weren’t going to miss that little drama unfolding. Uriel felt you should have smote him right then. He’s always been too impertinent for his own good.”

“What about when Cas saved me?” Dean prompted.

“You had been dead for four months, your body buried and returned to the earth, ashes to ashes and all that. Castiel had to rebuild your body. God breathed into Adam but he breathed into your new body by proxy via Castiel’s grace. Do tell me though, did you make his eyes greener? I’ve got fifty dollars riding in the pool that says you did.”

Dean looked to Cas who was looking down and blushing again. “I would never presume to change Father’s design. His creation is perfect.”

“Of course it is,” Balthazar said smugly.

“OK, well… keep explaining cause I’m not getting any of this,” Dean grumbled.

“It means that my grace left an imprint on you. Your body, not your soul. Your soul is as it ever was,” Cas said, sensing Dean’s impatience.

“Think of it as a web, like spider’s silk, small tendrils of grace. It’s that web that held you together when Ethaniel’s grace should have destroyed you. But instead of seeing Castiel or Ethaniel, all I see is Dean Winchester,” said Balthazar.

Dean looked at Cas and for a second, thought he looked saddened before his attention was drawn back to Balthazar who was staring at him. “Is this what you have always seen?” he asked in a muted aside to Cas.

Dean looked back at Cas and this time, his smile was soft. “Yes. Always.”

“Soooo,” Sam drawled out. “Dean has Ethaniel’s grace but it looks like his own?”

“Yes,” Cas said and if Dean didn’t know better, he would say it sounded fond.

“So is he an angel now? Or what?”

“That remains to be seen,” Balthazar remarked. “I’ll go speak to the healers,” he said before disappearing. Except this time, Dean could have sworn he felt the air stirring and a quiet whoosh of something soft. He shook his head. It was probably just the fever and exhaustion. He still felt dizzy. He relaxed, letting his body become boneless against the pillows they had piled behind him. 

“What do we do? What’s going to happen to Dean?” Sam asked urgently.

“I don’t know,” Cas sighed. “This has never happened before. We will have to wait for Balthazar to return with any information he can find.” He held up his hands to Sam in a placating gesture. “I think it unlikely that anything will happen to Dean tonight. His body is containing the grace quite well.”

Sam let out a deep breath. “Right. Well, I’m going to hit the books, see if I can find anything in the lore. Call me if you need anything.”

“I will watch over him,” Cas assured Sam as he turned to leave. There was a moment of silence as the door closed behind Sam. 

Dean closed his eyes but after a couple of minutes, opened them to find that Cas had not moved. At all. “Cas, we’ve talked about this.”

“I know how you feel about it Dean, but in this instance, I have to insist that it’s very prudent that I watch you as you rest.”

Dean closed his eyes again. He couldn’t deal with this right now. “Fine but pull up a chair. You’re making me nervous just standing there. And dim the lights.” It didn’t take him long to drift to sleep again. This sleep was deeper and more peaceful than what he usually got so he didn’t flinch when he felt a hand pull up the blankets to cover him. It didn’t matter. He knew Cas was near and he felt safe.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean has some new developments.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah, maybe quite a few aspects of canon/timeline... out the window. But this was my weird ass dream so we're going with it.

Dean woke because Sam was stomping his way down the hall. He lay still, his eyes closed, his head aching, listening to the steady boom, boom, boom. Then Sam threw open the door and flicked on what seemed like a supernova. The light speared through his bleary eyes. 

“Jesus,” Dean groaned as he threw his arm over his eyes to protect them. “What are you doing?” 

“Sorry man,” Sam said as he set something down with a bang.

“You don’t have to yell at me. I can hear you just fine.” He kept his eyes covered but light was still bleeding in and everything was just so loud.

“I’m not yelling,” Sam said defensively. “What are you talking about?”

“You. You’re being pissy, stomping around, slamming things down and the light. Just, lower your voice… please.”

“Man… I’m not…” 

Cas, who’d been sitting quietly by the bed, leaned forward over Dean. “It’s alright, Dean. I know what’s happening.” Sam watched as he put his fingers to Dean’s forehead. After a few moments, Dean visibly relaxed and blinked his eyes open.

“Better?” Cas asked as he leaned back into his chair.

“Yeah, thanks. What was that?”

“Your senses have heightened. I have muted them some temporarily, but you can learn to moderate them.”

Dean sat up on against the pillows. “You mean you hear and see like that all the time?”

“Sound, light… it’s all just wavelengths of energy. In some ways, it’s not so very different from my own,” Cas shrugged.

“You… like your ‘wavelength of celestial intent’ you?" Dean queried.

“Is Dean becoming like that? With the grace?” Sam asked.

“No,” Cas replied, his brow furrowed. “No, Dean is... something else. I am not able to explain exactly what is happening to Dean yet.”

“But he is developing angel like abilities?” asked Sam trying to clarify.

“It appears so.”

“So how do I learn to control the crap happening to me? Is there angel school or something?” Dean asked. 

“There is no ‘angel school’,” Cas replied sardonically. “A mature, experienced angel will pass on knowledge to an inexperienced angel through a mental link, if you will. It’s difficult to explain since it usually happens when angels are not occupying vessels.”

“So you’re saying we have to mind meld?” Dean asked. 

“That is a somewhat accurate description, however, there is a certain ability for exchange that goes both ways.”

“Well no offense, Cas, but I don’t want you mucking around in my brain.”

“I would not be ‘mucking around’. I would only pass on knowledge to you that might otherwise take you years to master. It is essentially me sharing a few of my own memories of what I know. It will allow you to control your senses so you are not overwhelmed.”

“Alrighty then, let’s do it.” Dean swung his legs over the bed to face Cas who was shifting nervously.

“It would probably be best for Sam to exit.”

“I can’t stay and watch?” Sam asked. After a few moments of silence, Sam looked to Dean who looked from Sam to Cas.

“Is there a reason you want Sam out of here?” Dean asked. When Cas, or rather Castiel, had first touched down on Earth, he had been a stoic bastard but slowly over time with falling and a short stint as human, he’d picked up certain habits. Dean could spot most of his tells. Something about this was making Cas nervous.

“To form the link, grace must touch grace. Grace is the essence of who, what we are. Even if it is for educational purposes, the sharing of grace is a very intimate act.”

Sam and Dean looked at each other. “That isn’t some weird euphemism for angel sex, is it?” Dean asked gruffly.

Cas glared at Dean. “No, it is not a euphemism. I am trying to help you here.”

Dean looked back at Cas for a long moment. “Sam, you wanna give us a minute?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Fine. I’ll be in the library.”

“Now what?" Dean asked as the door closed. Cas leaned forward, touching his right hand to the center of Dean’s chest. He took hold of Dean’s right hand and held it to his own chest. 

“Relax. Clear your mind.”

“Alright,” Dean said taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. He closed his eyes and tried not to think about the warmth of Cas’ hand on his chest or the warmth of Cas’ body under his own. Which was actually weird now that he thought of it. Cas had only really felt warm when he had been human or using his healing powers. Every time they had touched with Cas as an angel, he’d gotten a slight tingly feeling but not really warmth. It had always been like Cas was temperature neutral.

“Stop thinking so much, Dean.”

Dean huffed but kept his eyes closed. “It’s not like I know how to do this.”

“Concentrate on my touch. What does it feel like?”

Dean cleared his throat. “Uh… warm. It feels warm.”

“Good. Concentrate on that.” Dean focused on Cas’ hand. Warm was actually an inadequate description. It was warm and soft and… good. It felt good. The more he thought about it, the more it felt like the warmth was spreading. He could feel it now under his own hand. It was filling him. It felt like this one memory he had of napping on a hammock and waking to his whole body pleasantly warmed by the sun. 

Only this was better. It wasn’t just his body being warmed. There were parts of him he’d never felt before that were being warmed too. And that’s when he felt it. It was odd. It was like the warm feeling he got sometimes when Cas actually made a funny joke or the way Cas sometimes smiled at him. If he was honest with himself, and sometimes he really didn’t want to be, this felt like the feelings he had for Cas. Which were pretty deep. Other than Sam, Cas was the most important person to him. He was family, so yeah, of course those were pretty strong feelings. And that’s what this felt like but… not. 

That’s when Dean realized that what he was feeling were actual feelings but they weren’t his feelings. Before he could examine that more, he began to get impressions, like memories, being pushed at him. He caught a glimpse of a red kite against a blue sky, a shining city, of a multitude of golden lights and rainbows, strange things he didn’t understand which were making him just a little panicked. He pushed back against what was pushing against him. He needed familiar ground. He looked for those feelings, those ones that were like his but not his. It only took him a few moments to find them. It made him breathe easier. But with them came more impressions. These were easier for him to understand. There was Sam.. and himself. He was watching himself… as if Cas had been watching them. These were Cas’ memories. 

Intrigued, he pushed further, sinking further into the warmth, which was actually kind of amazing. He didn’t think he’d ever really felt anything like this before. It was calming and gave him a feeling of security. Safe. It made him feel safe. Huh, he thought to himself. He hadn’t felt like this since he was a kid. He could remember this feeling but only from before the fire, when his mom had held him, or his dad, when he knew he was safe and loved. 

Loved. Yeah, he thought as he nestled down into that feeling. That’s what knowing he was loved felt like and it was great. He sighed and couldn’t help but to let himself enjoy it. Then suddenly it was gone. The warmth was gone and he felt abruptly alone again.

“Cas?” he asked, opening his eyes. Cas was staring at him with wide eyes. He was still holding his arm by the wrist but his hand wasn’t touching Cas anymore and Cas wasn’t touching his chest either. Whatever had happened, Cas seemed to have broken the connection. “Something wrong?”

“I… I don’t think I am able to focus the correct memories… there’s too many… that is… I believe I am too inexperienced… for this. I will find Balthazar. He has taught others.” Cas dropped his hold on Dean. “Yes, that’s… that’s an excellent idea. I’ll go find him.” There was a whoosh and a stirring and Cas was gone, the chair empty.

Dean sat there for a moment stunned, his right hand still held out in the air. “Cas? Cas?” He really didn’t want to dwell on what had just happened because if it was what he thought it was, if he’d been tapped into Cas’ feelings, which made him feel  _ safe _ and  _ loved _ …

“Cas, I really don’t want to mind meld with Balthazar,” he said into the room. He sighed and got up. He really needed some coffee if Cas was going to drag Balthazar back. He shoved his feet into his slippers and headed to the kitchen.

Once he had his coffee in hand, he shuffled into the library and sat across from Sam who had several books open on the table.

“Well?” Sam prompted.

“Well what?” he said taking another gulp of coffee. He could feel the warmth of the liquid spreading in his chest as it traveled down to his stomach but it didn’t compare, at all, to what he’d just experienced with Cas.

“How did it go? What happened? Can you control your super senses now?”

Dean took another big gulp to keep from answering right away. “It didn’t work. Apparently Cas hasn’t done it enough or something. I don’t know. He’s gone to find Balthazar who’s done it before, apparently.”

“Huh. OK. So how are you feeling?”

Dean shrugged. “Same as ever. Actually, I think I’m going to go shower before Cas gets back. I think I still feel Gamaliel bits on me and gross.”

Dean grabbed a change of clothes and hit the bathroom. It was a like a gym shower with multiple toilet and shower stalls and a row of sinks. It was great because while there were not separate rooms, Sam had his preferred shower stall and Dean had his. This had given him a certain freedom to experiment with products he wouldn’t have been caught dead with before. Call it vanity, but since he’d come back new from the grave, he’d done what he could to maintain the baby soft skin he’d come back with. It felt smooth and nice to the touch and several chicks he’d been with had liked it too. If chicks dug it, then it couldn’t hurt. Kind of like those crunches he’d used to sneak in while Sam was showering to keep his abs toned because God forbid Sam actually know he exercised. He would never hear the end of it. It was easier now that they had actual separate rooms of their own.

He kept a steady flow of thought up as he washed, anything to keep from thinking about how the hot water flowing over his body kind of reminded him of being sunk into that warm feeling that was Cas. He didn’t need that kind of warm, gooey association with Cas. Even if it had been incredible.

~~~~~

Cas flew straight to the archives. Not in a panic, just in a hurry. Who knew how long his muting of Dean’s senses would hold. He walked down through the stacks, row upon row of tall shelves with cubby holes that held a multitude of scrolls, until he found Balthazar. He quickly explained the issue.

“And you couldn’t focus on the right memories?” Balthazar asked skeptically.

“I haven’t used this technique before. I only remember it from when memories were passed on to me.”

“Oh Cassie,” Balthazar smirked. “You and I both know you know well enough how to pass on knowledge. That was passed on to you as well. Your problem is that you can’t separate yourself from your feelings for that one.” Cas followed as Balthazar continued to scan the shelves. “What happened? Did he catch a glimpse?”

“That’s not the issue.”

“Honestly, I’ve never seen two beings so deep in denial before,” Balthazar mumbled as he unfurled a scroll before rolling it back up.

“There’s no denial. There’s nothing to deny. I just can’t do it. What are you doing?” Cas hissed as Balthazar pulled his trench coat open and pushed the scroll into one of the inside pockets.

“The librarians always check me before I leave but they still think you’re a stickler for the rules for some reason. Come on. Let’s go see about your boy.”

“He’s not my boy,” Cas said sullenly as he followed behind Balthazar to the exit. 

~~~~~

“Where do you keep the good liquor?” Balthazar called out as a greeting from the kitchen. 

“I’m not telling you,” Dean yelled back.

“Spoil sport,” Balthazar groused as he sank into the chair next to Dean. “Cas mentioned he had technical difficulties. Let’s get this over with. I do have a life of my own.”

Dean started to rise out of his chair when Balthazar put a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back down. “Don’t you want to…” he motioned with a thumb over his shoulder.

“Here’s fine. It’ll just take a moment.” Balthazar kept his hand on his shoulder but didn’t touch him in any other way. “This may feel a little forceful at first. Try not to fight me.”

That made Dean a little nervous. He’d feel better if he could see Cas for some assurance but Cas was standing behind him. Before he could brace himself, he felt something like a spike straight through his brain, although it didn’t hurt and didn’t feel damaging, just forceful. He sucked in a breath and heard Balthazar tell him to relax.

He got a rush of memories but it wasn’t at all like it had been with Cas. This was so focused and so impersonal. Faster than he could process, Balthazar dumped thousands of memories into him. He felt like Neo, flicking through an info dump, not really seeing any of the memories but still fully comprehending everything that was being given to him. Except it didn’t take ten hours, it took only seconds. He blinked his eyes open.

“I know kung fu.”

“You were supposed to teach him to marshall his senses,” Cas said in his slightly annoyed monotone. 

Dean smirked. “It’s alright, Cas. I got this.”

“Would that work on a regular human?” Sam asked. 

Balthazar turned to him. “No. Without grace to buffer it, your brain would not be able to handle the rush of information. However, I did bring you a booby prize.” He snapped his fingers at Cas and passed Sam the scroll after Cas handed it to him. “This is the only thing I could find. It’s about the Nephilim but it’s in Old Enochian which I am not fluent in.”

“Do you know it, Cas?” Sam asked.

“Only a few symbols for warding and spellwork. Only the older angels are fluent in it. I am somewhat young, relatively speaking,” Cas explained.

“Yes, well, good luck translating it. Keep me appraised, little brother. I find this somewhat amusing.” With that Balthazar stood and disappeared.

“A pleasure as always,” Dean muttered. 

“So you really know a lot of angel stuff now?” asked Sam. Dean could tell he was just burning with curiosity and not a little bit of jealousy. 

“Yeah, it’s weird. It’s hard to wrap my head around it, but I know that I know it. And these senses are crazy. I can read all of the titles of those books over there easy,” Dean said motioning to the furthest bookshelf. 

“Just remember to keep your perspective. You don’t want to try to see something in such detail that you find yourself zooming in on the molecules instead of the object itself,” Cas warned.

“Is that like you tasting the molecules instead of the PB&J?” Sam asked.

“Somewhat.”

“Wait, you mean this is going to affect my taste buds too? A burger is still going to taste like a burger, right Cas?” 

“As you are not really an angel, it might not,” Cas said with uncertainty. 

“Oh God. Where are my keys?” Dean said frantically patting his pockets.

“Dean?” Sam said worriedly.

“I gotta go get a burger. Like now.”

“You’d better go with him,” Cas said. “I’ll see if I can find you any reference materials for translating that scroll.”

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll just…” Sam motioned to a retreating Dean.

Cas watched them go. This was going to be harder than he had anticipated. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean can't stop himself from spilling his guts and he's not sure why.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I feel like Becky squeeing about my own damn story. Also like Becky, I write alone, so not beta'd.

Cas was waiting for them when the boys returned. He had several tomes and a scroll that looked like it was caked in dried mud set on the most used library table. Sam started sifting through them eagerly as Dean groaned, placing a white grocery sack on the table. He lowered himself slowly into a chair, shifting around until he was leaned back with his legs outstretched, his body almost in a straight line.

“Are you alright?” Cas asked concerned.

“No man. I may have overdone it for once.”

“I told you to stop after the fifth one,” Sam said leafing through a book with a tattered fabric cover.

“I was afraid they were gonna stop tasting so good so I kept eating.” He shifted to lean more on his left side. “And I was hungry. Like really hungry. Couldn’t stop myself hungry.” 

Cas narrowed his eyes at Dean. “More than usual?”

“Cas, I love burgers, but have you ever seen me eat six in one sitting?”

“That does seem a little extreme.”

“That’s one word for it.” Dean rubbed his stomach. “I think I’m gonna go lay down, let this settle.”

“It’s called a food baby,” Sam smirked.

“Don’t call it that,” Dean winced, standing slowly. He grabbed the grocery sack and made his way to the barracks.

“You should save those pies for later.” Dean groaned in response. “You’ll regret it if you don’t,” Sam yelled as he turned around the corner. 

“Is he alright?” Cas asked still looking where Dean had disappeared.

“I don't know. I guess that’s more your department right now.” Sam set the book down as he sat. “Give it to me straight, Cas. Do you think Dean is going to be OK? This isn’t going to burn right through him, is it?”

Cas kept his eyes on the table as he considered what to say. “I have been watching the grace. It’s settling onto him but it’s not really changing him. He’s still Dean, just enhanced, if that makes sense. It looks fairly stable.”

Sam let out a deep breath. “Good. That’s good.”

“That said, it is making some changes, like with his senses, but that is to be expected. I’m not sure what else will manifest.” Cas paused, thinking to himself. “I think I’d like to observe him some more.”

“You know he finds that creepy,” Sam reminded Cas as he stood up.

“Yes, but I think it’s warranted and better while he’s sleeping than when he’s awake. I have a feeling he’d object to that more.”

Sam laughed. “You’re not wrong there.”

Cas knocked and entered Dean’s room to find him sprawled on his bed fully clothed. The lighting was dim with only the bedside lamp on. 

“Dude, you’re supposed wait until I say come in.”

“You only said I had to knock first.”

“You knock and then wait for permission to enter,” Dean said, his eyes following Cas’ movement as he walked over to the chair. 

“Were you going to forbid me from entering?” 

“No, but that’s not the point. Social conventions, Cas. They’re courteous.”

“Duly noted,” Cas replied, sitting.

“More observation?” Dean sighed, rubbing his stomach in slow circles.

“I can relieve that for you if you are very uncomfortable,” Cas offered.

“Nah. It’s fine. I think I needed it. I really was hungry. Kinda reminded me of that time with you and Famine and the burgers.”

“That’s disturbing. That was a voracious hunger.”

“Yeah, it was like that. Like I needed them so much, I couldn’t stop myself.”

“Perhaps your body is fueling up for another change. That’s why I’d like to observe you some more.”

“Is that why you’re looking at me so hard? Are you, what did you say, zooming in on my molecules?” Dean asked with a wry smile.

“Exactly,” Cas said, his eyes moving along Dean’s body as if he was watching the blood moving through his veins. “I’m watching the network of grace across your body and reading your DNA for any changes.”

“You can do that? Read my actual DNA?” Dean looked over to Cas incredulously.

“It takes time. It’s very complex to interpret what will be amongst all the possibilities and all of the extra coding that isn’t used. For example, I can read that your eyes are the exact shade they were meant to be. I think the difference that Balthazar perceives is due to slight damage over the years, things like overexposure to solar radiation. You should wear sunglasses for protection more often. You also have had an extremely high number of black eyes for someone your age.”

“And what, when you brought me back, my eyes were sparkling new like my skin was baby soft with no scars?”

“Just so.”

“What else can you read there?”

“You were meant to be six feet two inches tall, like your father and your grandfather Campbell.”

“Really? So I wasn’t meant to be the family midget?”

“You’re six foot one, Dean, hardly a midget.”

“But Dad was taller and look at Sam.”

“I believe your brother’s height to have been influenced by Azazel’s blood.”

“So what happened? Why didn’t I make it all the way?”

“From what I can tell, you had a year of poor nutrition when you were very young and a lack of adequate nutrition during your teenage years.”

“I guess that makes sense,” Dean huffed. There was a moment of silence as Cas waited for an explanation. “The year after Mom died, Dad was frantic trying to figure out what had happened. He didn’t occur to him to hide the truth real well and I accidentally overheard him talking about it. I was maybe five so I kind of freaked. I uh… didn’t eat very much that year. That freaked Dad out and that’s why he was always so adamant about Sam not finding out about everything until he was older.”

“And later, when you were older?” Cas prompted.

“I was always looking out for Sam, making sure he had 3 square a day. When we were younger, sometimes there wasn’t enough, you know when Dad was gone longer than he’d anticipated and money ran out. That wasn’t a problem once I was old enough to hustle but there was never anyone around to make sure I ate my veggies like I made Sam. Never had a problem with protein, just the green stuff.”

Cas nodded, understanding the parental neglect that Dean was skirting around. “That would explain it. It’s just a minor retardation of growth. It also explains the disparity between your dietary habits and Sam’s.”

“You calling me retarded, Cas?” Dean chuckled.

Cas gave him a small glare for his intentional misunderstanding. “You did right by Sam, Dean. It’s commendable.”

Dean shrugged. “He’s my brother,” he said, as if that explained everything and surely to Dean it did. There was a lull in the conversation. Dean used it to watch Cas watching him, his eyes tracing up and down his body obviously following something. “What do you see now?”

“Your digestion has ramped up. Your dinner is being converted into energy and it is being distributed along your body.”

“Is something happening?”

“Not quite yet.”

“Should I be worried?”

Cas stopped his perusing to look Dean in the eye. “I do not see anything to be alarmed about.”

Dean yawned. “Good. I’m gonna get some shut eye. This whatever is making me tired. Wake me if something’s up, yeah?”

“Of course, Dean.”

Dean closed his eyes and berated himself for a solid minute. What had he been thinking spilling his guts to Cas? There were things he’d just said he’d never told another soul. It was like he couldn’t help himself, like he’d been almost compelled to tell Cas, like he wanted Cas to know more. It had all just… flowed out of him. That idea froze his thoughts. Flowed out of him. Yeah, it had kind of felt like when they were doing that mind meld and he had kind of flowed across the connection into Cas’ feelings. Or at least that was his best guess of what had happened. 

“Cas?” he asked quietly.

“Yes, Dean?”

Dean kept his eyes resolutely closed and tried to be nonchalant as he asked what was now on his mind. “Why did the mind meld with Balthazar feel so different from what it was like with you?” There was silence for several moments. He was tempted to peek at Cas but that would only make this more awkward.

“Balthazar does not have the same connection with you as I have. It makes his attempt to share memories much more straightforward.”

“Is it because of the profound bond?” 

“Yes and because a trace of my grace remained with you. I makes it easier for me to connect to you. We also have been through alot together. I have come to care very much for both you and Sam and that gives our connection depth.”

“You’re family, Cas.” Because he had his eyes closed, Dean didn’t see Cas’ small, fond smile. He highly enjoyed every time Dean would say that. Dean let so few people into his heart that it made being counted among them very special. It made his own body’s heart feel like it was expanding to fill his chest cavity. 

“Balthazar is more of an acquaintance. He is less invested in you and vice versa so his connection is less… emotional. It is very superficial.” The room was quiet as Dean considered that.

“What did Balthazar mean when he said ‘is this what you always see’?” Dean peeked again and saw Cas shifting to lean back in the chair. He heard Cas take a deep breath before answering. 

“When my garrison was fighting to get to you in hell, many of them questioned if we were heading in the right direction. They could not see through the darkness. It was very daunting.”

“But you could?”

“I was also having trouble seeing through the darkness.”

“Then how did you find me?” Dean asked. He was very curious. They never really had talked much about it.

“I couldn’t see through all the darkness, but I could see you. Your soul, it’s the brightest, most beautiful thing I have ever seen. It shone like a beacon in the dark of hell. I was able to fly straight to you.”

“That’s impossible,” Dean said quietly.

“Why do you say that?”

“I’d been torturing souls for ten years by the time you came for me. There’s no way my soul would be like you describe it.”

“You have a fundamental misunderstanding about that. You did not choose to torture those souls.”

Dean threw an arm over his eyes. He hated talking about this. It made him too exposed and vulnerable but Cas needed to understand. “I did, Cas. I picked up the knife and I enjoyed it. My soul must be dark and twisted.”

“Alistair didn’t really give you a choice. It was one torture or the other. It was all a manipulation to make you believe you had chosen and to fulfill the requirements of the seal but you never really had a choice. You say you enjoyed it but I believe it was really an expression of your own pain. I think it was a relief for you to express it and you’ve mistaken it for enjoyment.” Cas could tell Dean didn’t believe him. “You had no choice. Do you remember when Zachariah was trying to force you to accept Michael? He gave you the choice of suffering, of Sam suffering or saying yes to Michael. Was he really giving you a choice then?”

“No,” Dean reluctantly admitted after a few moments.

“It was the same with Alistair. It was simply one torture or another. He forced your hand. That is why you are still the Righteous Man and why your soul was a bright star in the dark, even then. It still shines so brilliantly. I don’t know why my brothers couldn’t see it before.” Cas paused. “I think… I think I was always meant to be the one to rescue you. I think Father knew that I would choose to help you again and again of my own free will and that’s why I could always see the brilliancy of your soul.”

“So Balthazar can only see it now because of Ethaniel’s grace?”

“I don’t know for sure. I sometimes think Father hid you that way to protect you from Michael and Raphael until it was time, so you could do what you were meant to do. Your soul has not changed. What Balthazar sees now is what I’ve always seen. Dean, it’s why I stare at you sometimes. I know you are uncomfortable with that and I am sorry but your soul, your essence is very beautiful. You do not see what we see. It’s like the way you like to look at the stars for their beauty. I like to look at your soul for its beauty.”

Dean nodded. He wasn’t sure if he believed what Cas was trying to tell him. He would have to think on it and right now, he was exhausted. His body was tired and this conversation was making him mentally and emotionally tired. 

“Rest, Dean. I’ll wake you if anything changes.”

Dean felt himself drifting but before he lost consciousness, he felt his boots being removed and a blanket being pulled over his body. Cas was here. He felt safe and with that, his body relaxed completely and sent him over into sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dean's hella tired... for a reason.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is not dead. In the past months, I started taking ADHD medication and it really does help keep my mind from drifting and day dreaming when I'm working. Turns out, in my dream world where my stories come from, that's not necessarily a plus. 

Dean had woken after a few hours of deep sleep. Cas watched as Dean, only half conscious, grabbed the grocery bag from the bedside table and methodically ate the dozen fried snack pies. He didn’t say anything and his eyes were half closed the entire time. When he was done, he simply lay back down and fell asleep, the wrappers strewn across his lap.

Cas cleared the trash away and continued his watch from the edge of his chair. He was sure something was happening. He could see the energy, like golden particles, zinging around his body. Most of it was concentrated on Dean’s torso. It was another two hours before Dean moved again. It was just a twitch of the shoulder, seemingly innocuous. After a few minutes, Dean moved, rubbing the other shoulder back against the mattress as if scratching an itch. It was but another minute before Dean was rubbing the other side.

Cas sat up straight. He was pretty sure he knew what was happening. He hadn’t been fully convinced it was possible but he could see the energy gathering along Dean’s shoulders and back.

“Dean,” he said standing to lean over him. “Dean,” he repeated firmly, giving him a little shake.

Any other day and Dean would’ve been wide awake at a moment’s notice but he had been complaining about unusual fatigue. He's sluggish and not very responsive. Dean shrugged away from Cas’ hand. “Tired. Leave me alone,” he mumbled.

“Dean, you must wake. Something’s happening.” Dean cracked an eye as Cas pulled him into a sitting position and started pulling his flannel down his arms and tossing it aside.

“What’re you doing?” Dean asked, not fully awake but not fighting as Cas began pulling his t-shirt over his head.

“I don’t want to alarm you but another change is imminent.”

“What? Why’re you undressing me?”

“I’m fairly certain you are about to sprout wings. It’s going to be quite painful but it will pass shortly. It will be easier if you can remain calm,” Cas explained as he pulled Dean up onto his knees to the edge of the bed.

That got Dean’s full attention. “Say that again?”

“I believe you are about to sprout wings.” Cas kept his left hand on Dean's arm to steady him. “Since you were not born with them and you are a corporeal being, when they erupt, it will hurt.”

Dean suddenly gripped Cas’ biceps. His head bowed and his face tightened in pain.  “Cas…”

“What are you feeling?”

“My back… Jesus… it’s searing my back…” Dean leaned more into Cas. Cas shifted, wrapping his arms around Dean’s waist, pulling Dean tight against him. He could see the twin lines running down his back, gold and sparkling with gathering energy. Dean pressed his forehead to Cas’ shoulder, gasping.

“Hurts like a son of a bitch,” Dean ground out.

“I'm sorry. If I could make this easier for you, I would.”

Dean hooked his arms under Cas’ shoulders, his hands gripping the fabric of his shirt, his coat and suit and jacket having been set aside sometime in the night.  The pain came like waves washing over his back, rippling up his spine. With each wave, Dean bit back a groan. “How long is this gonna take?”

“Just a couple of minutes. It’ll be over quickly.”

Dean huffed a couple of quick breaths, steeling himself. “Okay… okay.” When the next wave hit, he arched his back, screaming. He swore he could feel his back ripping open, like all the muscles and ligaments were being pulled from his bones. It was not unlike some of the things he’d experienced in Hell.

He didn't realize he was beginning to hyperventilate until he head Cas’ low rumble. “Breathe, Dean. Deep breaths. You have to keep breathing.” Listening to Cas helped him time his breaths, slow them down. There were three more giant rips that made him bend into Cas’ body before it ended. He could feel something move out from under his torn skin in a wet slide and he startled. Cas kept his arms locked around his body, keeping him immobile. “Don’t. Give them a moment to unfurl. They’re wet and they need to be cleaned. Allow me.”

Dean lay his head on Cas’ shoulder, his nose almost brushing Cas’ neck, still working at keeping panic at bay. Turned this way, he could see the dark shapes spreading out behind him. Cas lifted a hand and Dean felt a dry, warm sensation spread across appendages that weren’t his arms or legs and the tingle he knew was Cas healing him. After those sensations had died, he realized the odd sensation he was still feeling was sensory information like he’d never received before, movement of air and temperature that wasn’t felt on his skin. His control was slipping and the shapes behind him began moving in small jerky movements.

“Shh, shh. It’s okay. Keep still a moment,” Cas spoke softly, his hands gently rubbing low on Dean’s back. Dean honestly couldn’t decide what was freaking him out more: the fact that he’d apparently spontaneously ejected a pair a wings out of his back or the fact that Cas was using a calming technique on him he himself used on women and children. After a couple of seconds of feeling the pull of the new appendages, he decided the wings were definitely freaking him out more.

“I can’t control them!” he snapped when they began to flap erratically. One slapped his face. It was a good thing Sam wasn’t around. He’d never live this down.

“Yes, you can,” Cas advised. “Just think about it. Concentrate. Balthazar already gave you the knowledge. Just be calm and think control.” Dean closed his eyes, forcing deep breaths. _Still_ , he thought to himself as he breathed out. _Be still._

“Very good,” Cas rumbled. It made Dean realize how very close Cas’ mouth was to his ear. “You’re tensing up. Relax and it will be easier to feel and control them.” Dean willed himself to relax. Now was not the time to freak out about Cas’ proximity on top of everything else. He focused all his attention on the wings, trying to move them. He felt them flap twice as they extended.

“Oh, Dean,” he heard Cas whisper in awe. “They’re beautiful. I can’t wait to see them in sunlight.” Dean turned his head. Even in the low light, he could see the medium brown color of his wings. The longer he looked though, he saw that the brown was actually a rich color, not dark but subtly vibrant with threads of reds, copper and gold woven in. He choked up thinking they reminded him of the birds of prey he had admired so much.

“Can I touch them now?” he said, his voice thick with emotions he wasn’t sure about yet.

“Yes. They’re dry now.” It took him a couple of tries to get the left wing to obey his silent command to fold in toward him. When it did, his fingers caressed the feathers on the tip. He was surprised to find them silky soft. He stroked it again with more pressure which sent a shiver down his back. He felt Cas chuckle.

“Wings are sensitive. Most angels only touch them to groom them, which only needs to be done when they are corporeal.”

“Wings, Cas. What am I going to do with wings? I won’t be able to be in public. I won’t even fit in Baby!” He felt Cas’ arms tighten around him, steadying him.

“It’s alright. If you think on it, you’ll remember how to fold them away. They will tuck back into the spiritual plane with a miniscule push of grace. However, for now, you should leave them out to rest as they are newly formed. I recommend you sleep on your stomach tonight.”

“Wings, Cas,” he repeated still stymied by this development. “What am I going to do with wings?” He began to pull away from Cas’ hold. Cas let go, but didn’t move away from Dean. “Can I fly?” he asked dubiously as it occurred to him. Flying in a tin can he had no control over, that was frightening. But flying under his own power, that might actually be awesome.

“Let me examine them.” Cas put his hand on Dean’s shoulder to still him as he walked around to face his back. Dean was careful with his wing, folding it partially to allow Cas to pass. “Extend them fully for me,” he asked. Dean’s wings snapped fully open in a sudden movement.

“Sorry,” he said sheepishly. “Still getting the hang of it.”

“It’s fine,” Cas said, surprising Dean when he laid his hands on his back, just to the sides of his neck. “You’re doing extremely well.” Dean partially turned his head to watch as Cas’ hands slid down his shoulder blades where the wings emerged from his back. Cas gently felt the appendage, testing the bone and muscle, making him shiver again. Fingers ghosted along the structure of his left wing. “They’re fully formed and should be functional. You should remember how to fly. We can try it out later after you’ve rested, if you wish.”

“Cas, wings, goddamnit.”

“I know it’s a shock, Dean. It’ll wear off soon enough and you’ll find you’re actually tired. Your body expended a lot of energy. You need to rest. Lie down.”

Cas was right. He was in shock and exhausted. He couldn't sort through this right now. He obeyed Cas’ simple commands, kneeling on the bed. He couldn’t just flop down onto it. He shuffled up it before lowering the new weight of his body down, tucking a couple of pillows up in his arms. His wings draped across the bed, relaxing until the ends draped down onto the floor. Cas moved his chair clear of them and took his position again. Dean turned his head to look at Cas.

“Cas…”

“Just close your eyes, Dean. It will be alright. I promise.” Dean nodded and let his eyes fall shut. He really was very tired. It was only a moment before he was gone.

He woke to Sam’s overly excited voice. “What the hell, man! When did this happen? How come I didn’t know? Are they real? Is he okay?”

“He’s fine. Please keep your voice down. He still needs to rest.”

“I’m sorry. Just… God! Wings!”

“Dean was equally astonished.”

“He’s really okay? The way you describe it, why didn’t I hear anything?”

“I dampened the sound as you were sleeping. There was no need for worry. It was quick and I healed any damage.”

“Can I feel them?”

“Wait until he’s awake. They’re sensitive to touch and he should give his permission first.”

“Right. Of course. I’ll come back later when he’s awake.” There was a pause where he heard Sam shifting. “Just… wow. They’re beautiful.”

“They are.” He wasn’t sure as he was drowsy, but he thought he heard a hint of pride in Cas’ voice.

“They’re very… Dean.”

“I thought so as well.” Whatever else was said was lost as Dean fell back asleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The issue is becoming clearer.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OMG...NOT DEAD! So I started taking ADHD meds over a year ago and wow they really do make you focus. Downside: I don't daydream as much so it, I wouldn't say killed my creativity, but it dang sure curtailed it. Well at work anyway. Which is where most of my ideas COME TO ME. (I low key hate my job.) But I'm going somewhere with this and I'm taking you with me.
> 
> Oh timeline notes: timeline is muddled as hell. In my AU, everybody lives! EVERYBODY! Kinda pre/no Mark of Cain. In the bunker. More to come.

Sam was very eager to see Dean’s wings again. At 8 a.m., which he deemed a reasonable time considering how early Dean had retired the previous night, he knocked on Dean’s door and waited until Cas bid him enter. He set the breakfast tray on the dresser and stood fidgeting. Dean was still asleep, lying on his stomach, his arms curled around his pillow. Cas chuckled at Sam’s impatience but his presence in the room was enough to make Dean stir.

“He’s waking now. Give him a moment.”

Sam watched in the dim light from the bedside lamp as Dean’s right wing moved. The very tip curled repeatedly, like a hand opening and closing. Dean’s legs shifted and he turned his head.

“Cas?”

“I’m here, Dean.”

Sam couldn’t wait anymore. “Dean…”

“Sam.” Dean tried to sit up but his first attempt failed as he fell back to the bed under the weight of his wings.

“Go slowly, Dean. You’ll get used to them,” Cas advised from his chair. After a few moments, he managed to sit at the edge of the bed facing Cas.

“Dean, can I…”

“Yeah.” He ran a hand down his face. He knew what Sam wanted. As soon as he'd seen them, Sam had probably been burning with curiosity about his wings. “Yeah, go ahead. Just… be careful.” Dean turned to watch Sam over his shoulder. Sam stretched out his hand and shuffled closer when he couldn’t quite reach. He tentatively stroked a single feather with a finger before stroking his hand down the top of the wing as far as he could reach. He felt Dean shiver as he stroked the wing again.

“This is so cool,” Sam said, rubbing a feather between his thumb and finger. “It’s so soft.”

“Stop feeling me up,” Dean grumbled as his wing flicked out of Sam’s grasp. It felt weird. He wasn't used to the sensations from them yet. Even if he was, it's not like he let people have free reign to touch him, not even lovers, although they had more leeway than most. It was just hard to turn off a lifetime of vigilance.

“Dean,” Cas gently reprimanded as he passed Dean the tray. “Eat your breakfast. You need to make up for the energy you expended last night.”

“Yeah, OK,” he conceded. He was eyeing the toast when Cas stood. “Where you going?” He wasn't ready for Cas to leave when he was still so unsure about what was happening to him.

“Your wings need to be washed.”

“You cleaned ‘em last night, right?”

“Yes, but this is more of a ritual washing,” he explained as he shrugged on his trench coat. “There is a river that runs through the Garden in Heaven. When a new angel comes into existence, their wings are rinsed with its waters, almost like a baptism of sorts, or a blessing. It is believed that it makes the angel’s wings stronger, able to carry them farther, faster.”

“And your wings were washed that way?” Dean asked, turning to sit with a bent leg up on bed so he wouldn’t have to hold the tray.

“Yes. My brother Gabriel washed them. He was… I guess you could say he was my parental angel.”

“Gabriel’s your dad?” Dean asked incredulously.

“No,” Cas chuckled. “God is my Father. He created me but He was not present. Gabriel was the angel who cared for me until I was able to care for myself.”

“You were a baby, Cas?” Sam asked, just as surprised as Dean had been at this new information.

“Not exactly. I was always an angel but remember, I am a wavelength of celestial intent. I am essentially energy. I did not have a physical form. However, I did have to be taught. All the knowledge I needed was passed to me by Gabriel the way Balthazar did for you.” Cas could see Sam gearing up for more questions. He turned back to Dean. “I will go to the Garden and get some of the water since I cannot take you there. Wait here. Do not attempt to stow your wings away. Eat your breakfast. You need to recoup your strength.”

“Yes, mother,” Dean sassed but Cas had already flown away. He picked at the offerings on the tray while Sam settled into Cas’ chair. He wasn’t real happy about the melon on his plate but the omelette was alright. He ate everything anyway because Sam was watching him and he didn’t want the kid to get after him about eating enough nutrients. “So what did you find out?” he asked, his mouth full.

“Interestingly enough, the scroll was about angel creation. There are two ways they’re created.”

“Yeah? Well, don’t hold out on me.”

“Most of them were just… created… by God. He spoke them into being like everything else. Just… bam… angels.”

“But not all?”

“Almost all. Apparently, like all of God’s creatures, they can procreate.”

Dean stopped chewing and looked up at Sam. “Procreate. Really? They like… have angel sex and then have angel babies?”

Sam laughed and ran his hand through his hair. “Uh… I guess? The scroll didn’t go into too much detail.”

“Huh. Do they do that a lot? Cause I gotta tell you, Cas was pretty clueless about… procreation.” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“No, it’s uh, pretty rare. The scroll made it seem like they don’t like it, like at all. Near as I can translate, it said that the process was too… visceral.”

“What does that mean?”

“I don’t know, man. But you know how angels usually are.”

“Dicks.”

“Yeah, robots. They don't like feelings. I guess procreation would create some pretty strong ones. Can you even imagine? How would that work? They hate everything about the human condition. I can’t imagine that two of them could connect on some deeper level and want to create a new life. It just doesn’t seem like something they’d do, you know?”

“Hmm. But that was it, right? God made them or angel pregnancy?”

“Pretty much.”

“OK, well, that doesn’t apply to me, so now what?”

“I’ll keep reading. There’s still more but it’s hard to translate.”

There was a loud thunk and they jumped up, turning to look past the end of the bed. Cas was back. He was righting a tall amphora in front of him that came up to his chest and that was threatening to fall over. Sam moved to help him.

“Dean…” Cas stepped around the amphora towards Dean as soon as Sam had a hand on it. “Dean…” he drawled out in astonishment.

“Cas… you OK?” Dean asked, a little concerned. “You basically just crash landed.”

“I was coming in and I saw… I hadn’t seen it before but maybe it was because I was too close. I didn’t notice but I saw it when I was flying in from a different perspective. It’s… I can’t believe it… but I see it clearly now…”

Dean put a hand on Cas’ shoulder. “Cas… man, you’re rambling.” Cas reached out to him, putting a hand against his chest, staring at Dean’s core.

“Dean…”

“Cas? You’re starting to freak me out. What’s up?”

“It’s… not possible.” Dean looked from Cas over to Sam who shrugged at him. Cas reached out with his left hand, resting it on Dean’s shoulder for a moment before sliding it down his chest. Cas’ two hands were framing a small space in the center of Dean’s chest. “I couldn’t see it because it gets lost in the colors of your soul. It’s like a swirling, glittering mass of color in your body and it’s a small speck. It’s tiny but… it’s there.”

“Cas. You need to get it together. What is it?” Dean said, his tone a little more urgent.

“It’s not possible.”

“You said that already.”

“I don’t know how it happened.”

“Well, can you tell us what it is? What are you seeing?” asked Sam.

“Creation… a new being,” Cas said with wonder.

“Come again?” Dean asked, not sure he'd heard correctly.

“What are you talking about?” Sam asked, as confused as Dean.

“Here, it’s nestled here, in your soul. It’s amazing,” Cas said with wonder, looking up at Dean.

“I’m sorry. I thought you said ‘a new being’?”

“Yes. It’s very small though. That’s why I couldn’t distinguish it. It looks like a piece of your soul but that’s because it’s part you. You’re its parent.”

“What?”

“Wait,” interjected Sam. “A new being and Dean’s it’s parent? Are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“What are you saying? Cause I’m not gettin’ it,” said Dean.

Cas smiled. “I believe the human custom is to say, congratulations, Dean. It’s going to be beautiful. It is beautiful.”

Sam let out a stuttering laugh. “Oh man, are you saying… you’re saying Dean’s pregnant?”

“What? Wait. No!” exclaimed Dean, pushing Cas’ hands down.

“Essentially, yes. I didn’t think it was possible, but yes.”

“Oh man,” Sam said stepping back and brushing his hair back. “Oh man.”

“Yes,” Cas said turning to Sam. “I, too, am speechless.”

“Whoa whoa whoa. I’m not… whatever. I was invaded… by angel grace. Whatever you’re seeing, it’s just that angel grace that invaded me!”

“Oh, you’ve been invaded alright,” Sam snickered. “You’ve been knocked up by some rando angel.”

“Ew, no,” Dean said, taking a step back from Sam and Cas.

“Not exactly,” Cas began. “This is not of Ethaniel’s grace. It looks like a shard of your soul but it’s grace, not a human soul. It’s not a part of you. Or rather, it is a part of you but it’s not you. It’s independent of you. It is essentially of child of you, your child.”

“Nope. Nuh-uh,” Dean vehemently denied, shaking his head.

“Yes, Dean.” Without changing his tone or volume, Cas called, “Balthazar, could you please come here? I am in need of your assistance.”

Balthazar appeared by the door with a heaving sigh. “I already did you a favor. What more could you possibly want from me?” He stopped to assess the room. “What’s going on here?”

“Nothing,” Dean blurted. “Don’t really need you. Don’t know why Cas called you. You can just go ahead and go.”

“Yes, we need you,” said Cas. “I need you to confirm what I’m seeing.”

Sam stepped back as Balthazar stepped closer. The space to the side of Dean's bed was not big enough for the four men plus Dean's wings.

“Has there been a change? What am I looking for?” Balthazar said squinting at Dean. Cas gestured to Dean and said something in Enochian. Balthazar’s eyes snapped to Cas as he choked out a laugh. “You're joking!”

“I assure you I'm not. You’ll see it if you will just take a look.”

Balthazar turned back to Dean, his eyes searching. His eyes swept from side to side across Dean’s body until he found what he was looking for. “Well, I’ll be damned.” He grabbed Dean by the shoulders and held him still as he leaned in closer. “Did Ethaniel’s grace do this?”

“I see no trace of Ethaniel,” Cas said peering over Balthazar’s shoulder.

“No, but I see it is of Dean. There is a second pattern contributing here. It's definitely a new, unique fledgling.”

Dean tried to pry Balthazar’s hands off. “Let go of me, you son of a bitch.”

Balthazar tightened his hold. “Hold still now, darling. The grown ups are trying to figure out what’s going on.” The room fell silent as he and Cas stared unblinkingly at Dean’s chest. After a moment, Balthazar let out a low chuckle. “Why, Cas, you sly dog.”

Cas turned to Balthazar and furrowed his brow. “I have no idea what you mean.”

“Don’t you, though? I knew he was your favorite, but I didn’t think you would take it that far. A human? I mean, if you wanted a fledgling at all, why not with an angel? How you've even accomplished this with a human is…” Balthazar stepped back in thought. “Oh, this makes perfect sense now,” he said nodding to himself.

“Care to share with the class?” Dean demanded.

“Well, procreation for angels is more metaphysical than physical and it’s always consensual. It cannot be done any other way. It is in essence, as you would understand it, a spiritual joining. However, there is still a physical element that begins it. That’s pretty across the board for Dad’s creations. Now, you and lover boy here obviously did the deed and now you have a tiny baby angel growing in your soul. Which explains why your body hoovered up Ethaniel’s grace. Your soul alone could not sustain the fledgling. You would need grace to feed its grace so that it could develop. But what I don’t get, Cas, is how you implanted it in the first place. That’s not something humans are built for.”

“I didn’t.”

“Oh, but you obviously did because here it is.”

“I am telling you, Balthazar, nothing has happened between Dean and I. I did not implant a fledgling into him. I have no idea how this has happened,” Cas denied with growing exasperation.

Balthazar gauged Cas’ earnestness. “This is a conundrum. Something must have happened. You had to have implanted a seed of grace in him somehow that he accepted. That is your grace I’m seeing mixed with his soul.”

“You’re saying Cas’ grace did this, right?” asked Sam. “You said Cas’ grace had left its imprint on Dean when you remade him. Could that be it?”

“That’s never happened before,” said Cas considering the idea.

“But it might explain the sudden nature of… all this. If that little seed was planted when you remade him, it probably has been waiting, feeding as it can on his soul and when it sensed available, free grace that would allow it the chance to grow…”

“It grabbed the grace,” Cas finished, a look of comprehension dawning on his face.

“Exactly! Although, that still doesn’t explain why it would have started in the first place.”

“Profound bond,” coughed Sam, none too subtlety.

“Just so,” Balthazar laughed. “I wasn’t there but even I could still see the mark you left on him. It’s as much a claim as any I’ve ever seen. You carried his raw soul out of Hell. His soul came into direct contact with your grace. It might have… communed with you. And if you’ve always seen his soul this way, well, it’s not hard to see why you might have left him with a seed of your grace.”

“But you said it had to be consensual,” Sam interjected.

“Yes,” Balthazar drawled. “Which is what makes this so interesting. Dean couldn’t have known consciously and yet his very soul accepted the seed of grace and has harboured it all this time, feeding it and protecting it from discovery and possible annihilation. It’s amazing it has survived considering all you’ve been through.”

“You’re saying I what? That I wanted this?” Dean demanded. “I didn’t ask for no angel baby!”

“Ah, but your very soul did. Your soul wanted it and gladly accepted it from your very first interaction with Castiel, when he pulled you from the pit. There’s no other way this could have happened. Whatever Cas’ grace gave you when he saved and remade you, your soul accepted it.” The men stood in silence, each digesting what had been said. Dean couldn't come up with a rebuttal.

“There’s a first time for everything,” Balthazar finally shrugged. “Although not a first I would have chosen. I can’t imagine what a mess this is all going to turn into. You three have a habit of making everything into a debacle.” Balthazar walked to the door and turned back to face them. “Best keep him here and hidden. I don’t imagine this is something Heaven will celebrate over. A nephilim would be easier to understand but that,” he said pointing to Dean's chest, “is not a human soul and definitely not a nephilim. That is definitely an angel of grace being born of a human. Raphael will not be happy. You know how he likes to control everything. You never take the easy path, do you Cassie?”

Castiel sighed. “Apparently not.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Baptism and feelings

There was a long, awkward silence after Balthazar flew away.

“There’s a lot to discuss, but first, let’s bathe your wings. It will make you feel refreshed. The waters from Heaven’s rivers are healing.” Cas walked over to the amphora and wrapped his left hand around one of its handles. With his right, he motioned Dean closer. “Come on, we’ll go out to your meadow. Lean into me. I’ll fly us out. I don’t think you’re ready for that yet. Fold your wings against your back.”

Dean stood close to Cas, who wrapped his arm around Dean’s waist and pulled him flush against his side. “Try to be still. It’ll be your instinct to flap your wings to keep from falling. Sam, take my arm.” Sam, glad he wasn’t being left behind, grabbed onto the arm holding the amphora.

Dean had never really liked being flown by angels but this time it was worse. With his newly heightened senses, he could feel the earth falling away and he began to panic. He felt the muscles on his back bunch, his wings getting ready to save him from his fall when he felt the meadow grass give way beneath his feet. His socks immediately became damp with the morning dew. He’d completely forgotten about putting on boots. He looked around the empty meadow. It was as pretty as a picture with lush, soft, green grass dotted by wild flowers. It was surrounded by tall, old trees. They were pretty sure it had been cultivated and used by the Men of Letters for spells, probably for pagan rituals under full moons and eclipses. Sam believed it to be enchanted somehow because they never had to cut the grass. It was always perfect.

“You should undress so your clothes don't become wet,” Cas instructed as he loosened his hold on Dean. 

“Uh… not happening. I'm not gonna stand in the buff out in a meadow where anybody can see,” Dean protested.

“First of all, there is no one here but us and both Sam and I have seen you undressed before. Secondly, it is highly unlikely that anyone will find us here. I'm sure the meadow has the same ‘keep away’ warding, as you call it, as the bunker. Thirdly,” Cas continued pedantically, “this is healing water from one of Heaven's rivers, Dean. It would be beneficial to bathe as much of you as possible in it. Don't stick your finger in that, Sam.”

Sam jerked back as Cas turned to him. He had been about to put his finger in the water out of curiosity. “If anyone touches the water, they add impurities to it. Rather, I will dip you out some.” Sam nodded, feeling like a kid who had been caught doing something he wasn't supposed to. “Dean, undress.” Cas snapped his fingers. For a moment, Dean thought Cas had snapped at him and he was puffing up his chest to snap back when he looked up and saw that Cas had actually snapped to fetch a smaller vessel, a cross between a small pitcher or a large, handled cup. 

“Fine,” he deflated, “but just to my boxers.” He might as well have been naked because that's how he felt with Sam and Cas watching him. “Now what?” he asked, throwing his clothes clear of where they were standing. 

“Come closer. Turn around. Spread your wings.” He did as he was told and held his breath expecting to be doused with cold water. The warm, gentle pouring that began over his right wing was not what he'd anticipated. It instantly made him think of crystal clear water with the sun shining through it moving over smooth river stones. He could almost hear the burbling sound that the water would make. His wing twitched when he felt Cas’ hand ruffle the feathers to get them all wet. 

Sam watched silently as Cas dipped into the amphora repeatedly. The act did have a solemn feel to it and even Dean was quiet as Cas proceeded to work. He was glad he was getting to witness Dean’s baptism, of sorts. He felt like he never really got to witnesses anything of this much importance in his brother's life. His mind was still blown over the idea that Dean was having some sort of angel baby and, oh, he had questions, but they would keep. This felt really pivotal for some reason, maybe because it made all of this feel real. 

He watched as Cas tipped the amphora. Knowing he was nearing the bottom and the ritual was almost complete, he brought his mind back to focus. Dean moved as Cas instructed as Cas carefully bathed the rest of his body. When he was done, all of Dean had been bathed. Cas stepped back and smiled. 

“Now what? I feel like a drowned cat,” Dean asked, crossing his arms. The comment made Cas’ smile widen but Dean still felt strangely vulnerable. The ritual had been a little too much for him.

“You can shake out your wings. They will dry faster than you think.” Cas could see the quick gleam of mischief in his eyes as Dean turned his back to Sam and with a heave, lifted his sodden wings to shake them at Sam. Sam raised his arms but not fast enough to protect himself from the droplets that rained down on him. 

“Real mature, Dean,” Sam griped combing his damp hair back out of his face. Dean’s wings shook as he laughed. 

“Here, Sam,” Cas said handing him the small vessel. “That's the last of the water. I suggest you save it for its healing properties. Remember to pour it out instead of touching it so that it retains its purity.”

“Right. Thanks, Cas.”

Dean wiggled his toes. The grass felt amazingly soft and springy under his feet. Surprisingly, he wasn't standing in a puddle. The earth had soaked up the water and the grass was actually greener than when they started. And Cas was right. He felt very… clean. This is how he should have felt when his body was remade. Not like how he actually had felt, all sweaty and covered in dirt from digging out of his own grave. “You takin’ us back in?” He didn't want to have to walk back to the bunker and get dirty. He wanted to stay this fresh as long as he could. 

Cas walked up to him and put his arm around Dean’s waist. “Sam?” He motioned Sam over with his free hand. 

“Oh, right, yeah.” Sam padded over and Cas whisked them back to Dean’s room. 

As soon as they were inside, Cas turned to Sam. “Would you excuse us? Dean and I have some things to discuss.”

Sam looked at Dean who was pulling a t-shirt from the dresser. Dean nodded at him. “Yeah, sure. I'll uh… I'll go store this.”

Dean kept his back to Cas as he quickly dressed. “Are we gonna talk about the fact that you basically knocked me up?” he asked point blank when he was done.

Cas sighed heavily. “I'm sorry, Dean. I did not realize I had done it. I did not mean for anything to happen.”

Dean rubbed his face with his hands as he sat down on the bed. “Well apparently it takes two to tango. I guess whatever this is is partly my fault too.”

“You didn't ask for this.”

“I'm not saying I'm not… disturbed by all this, because I am. But we can go ‘round and ‘round the mulberry bush with this and I'd really rather not. It's happened. I'm not about to ask you for an angel abortion.” He paused, thinking about the idea of getting rid of the new life growing in him. It was not an idea he'd ever thought he'd have to face. He'd pretty much given up on the idea of having a family of his own. His life's work just did not allow for that. But this… this wasn't some woman pregnant with his child, in which case he'd never suggest an abortion anyway. This was a life being generated within his own body. It was a really far-out concept but what he could grasp of it was that it was his, his own. There wasn't much in life that he could consider his very own. Hell, his name wasn't even his own half the time. But this was indisputably his and there was no way he was giving that up.

“I don't want to be rid of it. Just… tell me what I need to know. It's this gonna be at all like a human pregnancy? Am I gonna turn into a woman? Am I gonna get big? Am I gonna have weird cravings? How am I gonna birth this? Is it gonna have a body or be energy like you were?”

Cas sat in his chair and put an hand on Dean's knee. “I don't know everything but I will tell you what I think.” He waited until Dean nodded, wanting his full attention. “Right now, the fledgling is small, like a needle. It's just a shard in your soul. I wish you could see it. It's like a prismatic crystal. It has ever changing colors. It is energy, not physical. It's purely spiritual. I don't know what its growth rate will be. It's feeding off the grace but considering it's several years old already but underdeveloped, I don't know how rapidly it will grow now. I don't know if it will develop a physical body. It might as you are a physical being. What form it takes may affect how it's born but we have no way to know that now.” 

Cas paused, thinking. “Because of that, I cannot guess if you will notice any physical size difference. No, I don't think you're going to turn into a woman. I think it will just grow as energy in your soul as its womb until it's ready to separate from you.”

“Cas, please don't say womb.”

Cas smiled for a moment then became serious again. “I know this may cause you some conflict because of your masculine identity…”

Dean put his hand on Cas’ knee to stop him. “I don't care. I know who I am. I’m just some guy… whose soul was rescued from Hell by an angel, granted, but I’m still just me. I’m sure this is gonna freak me out at some point but I guess I’m not there yet.”

Case squinted his eyes and studied Dean for a moment. “Yes, why is that?”

Dean sat back, breaking contact. “I remember, Cas. I remember being in Hell.”

“Your nightmares…”

Dean shook his head. “It’s more than just the nightmares. Stuff like that, it’s seared into your soul. The heat, the smell of sulfur, the torture. Bible’s not wrong about any of that. But I remember you, too. I remember when you came for me.” He paused, taking a deep breath. “You were like a shining star, high above me. I didn’t see any of your brothers. All I saw was your light. It outshone everything in the darkness. I remember the feeling of relief when you picked me up. I remember being in your arms. It was like bathing in a cool river after the hellfire.”

Dean wiped at the few tears that had fallen down his face. “I can’t even describe to you what it felt like. The moment you took hold of me, I knew then that you would do whatever was necessary to protect me. I had never felt so safe. Ever, Cas. Not just because you were rescuing me from literal Hell. I had never felt so safe in my father's arms. Not in my mother's either. I wanted to stay in that moment with you, forever. I guess… I guess it explains why whatever this is started. It was that moment, Cas. I know it.”


End file.
